


When You're Drowing

by Adarian



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-16 05:31:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10564602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adarian/pseuds/Adarian
Summary: Without the intervention of Mother Giselle, both Dorian or Trevelyan think the other is straight. Trevelyan particularly struggles with his lust, thinking it inappropriate and damaging to their friendship.Then after a nightmare of the past, Dorian seeks comfort from him and Trevelyan realizes his feelings are requited.Written for a kink-meme prompt.





	

Trevelyan was not a man who needed romantic love. It was not that it did not interest him, it was that he was content to live without it. Nor did he spend his younger years at the Circle chasing after any one who might possibly kiss him or touch him. He enjoyed both love and sex, but almost forty years living in the Circle had shaped him. He lived under restriction and containment, with love affairs beginning and ending with longing glances. Partners could be reassigned, moved elsewhere, and love letters lost. Sex was quick, hurried, and rarely done in private. 

Under those conditions, it was not wise to grow too attached to anyone. It did not mean that Trevelyan had never been in love and he was no virgin, but he had learned young that it was best to love someone for the time one had with them and to let them go. He did not pine. He did not lust or long. He appreciated, cared for, and then moved on with his life.

Of course, one's early forties seemed like the perfect time to suddenly become a love-struck and libidinous teenager whose internal monologue was punctuated at least every ten words by Dorian's name. From the moment he had seen the mage it was like something inside of him clicked open. Maybe it was simply because it was the first time outside of the Circle he had been attracted to someone. Maybe it was just because Dorian was so beautiful and charming. But suddenly everything was intense, everything was need and yearning. 

All for a Tevinter man a decade younger than him. How foolish could he be? Dorian might smile for him, his hand might linger a touch too long on his, might laugh at his poor jokes, but Trevelyan knew in his heart that what he wanted wasn't possible. Dorian didn't want him. Dorian couldn't want him. 

And his friendship should have been enough. At any other point, for any other person, Trevelyan would have cherished their relationship as it was. 

But he wanted him. Not just as a friend. His thoughts ranged wildly between the colour of the curtains in their future home together to fingering him senselessly while Dorian cried out his name. 

This latter half of the fantasying was a problem. It was all a problem, clearly, but Trevelyan could hide his heart a little better than he could hide...well, other parts of his body. He didn't want to make Dorian uncomfortable or ruin what they had. Dorian was from a country where anything considered sexually deviant was forbidden. The man was probably straight, sure, but instead of a polite rejection, Trevelyan might be faced with the end of their friendship or a broken nose.

Now, Trevelyan tried not to think about it, or at least let the thoughts rise and fall. Acknowledging them would only make them worse. And the rare few times that he was unable to stop thinking about it, he would take himself in hand, but force himself to imagine anybody but Dorian. It felt wrong otherwise, dehumanizing. Dorian was more than a perfect pair of lips, beautiful eyes, sculpted thighs and -

Well, one can imagine the rest.

However that night, after drinks with friends in a crowded tavern, Dorian pressed against him from sheer lack of space, his resolve was falling quickly. Trevelyan was getting very drunk and Dorian's cheeks flushed pink with heat and drink. He looked up at him with a carefree smile, his laugh sincere and sweet. 

As more of the Chargers showed up, Dorian was practically forced into Trevelyan's lap, their legs pressed together tightly. Trevelyan put his arm around him just for more space and heard Dorian release a quiet gasp as his hand accidentally brushed against the back of his neck. 

And that did it. 

Trevelyan could feel his blood stirring in his loins but he had another pint and tried to catch his breath. Dorian was close to him, closer than the pair had ever been outside of the heat of battle and the forced intimacy of its aftermath. He smelled like sweat and perfume and whatever pieces of the universe the Maker had sown together to make this ode to sex and beauty. Trevelyan wanted to kiss him. He wanted those lips on him, that tongue on his skin. He wanted to hear another gasp.

Before he could make a fool of himself, Trevelyan quickly made a few pitiful excuses and fled upstairs to his rented room. He locked the door, trying to recover, his breath ragged and his cock strained against his trousers. He had options. He could draw a cold bath, breathe mindfully, reflect on their friendship, or if he really had to, relieve himself to a favourite fantasy of an Antivan Crow who would accept sex in exchange for his life.

But he didn't want any of that. He wanted Dorian. And right now he was drunk and stupid enough to indulge.

Trevelyan lowered his pants just enough to grasp his erection. His belt jangled slightly as he stroked himself and he stepped out of them, barely managing not to trip over them before sitting on the edge of the bed. Normally he would have to picture an image first before touching himself, but he knew exactly what he wanted. 

_Dorian would be riding him, those gorgeous thighs pushing him up and down his cock. He would be gasping and pleading wordlessly. Trevelyan would kiss him hard, grip him hard, hold him as close as he could with Dorian still bouncing. Dorian would run his fingers through Trevelyan's hair, bringing him in close._

_Right before Dorian could spend himself, Trevelyan would push him down, push his legs apart and thrust into him hard. Dorian would hold onto him, his fingers digging into his shoulders, crying out for him. Then Dorian would come hard, clenching around his cock, losing himself as he spilled onto them. Trevelyan would pound into him, making the finish as strong as he could. And when Dorian was a sated, gorgeous mess in his arms, Trevelyan would -_

He was getting close now. He jerked himself hard, a yelp escaping his throat. But he wanted to finish the fantasy. He was only doing this once, only letting himself do this once. He wanted to do it right. 

_When Dorian was lying beneath him, still moaning for him, Trevelyan would withdraw and kiss his throat as he fisted his own cock. Dorian would arch to meet him, grinding against him. Then Trevelyan would finish on Dorian's chest as the younger mage whispered that he loved him._

Trevelyan's gut tightened and he bit his free hand, trying not to moan. He bucked against his fingers, his cock growing hard, rigid, so close. But he couldn't, not until he allowed himself to say it aloud.

As quietly as he could, he groaned, "Dorian."

Heat rushed through him and he cried out, not caring, just wanting to have this pleasure, knowing that it would never be enough but it was as close as he would let himself. He thrust into his hand until it hurt, spurting onto his fingers. He shuddered and whined until he came back to his senses.

The momentary joy was quickly replaced with both shame and self-pity. He closed his eyes and took a shaky breath.

It wasn't real. However much he wanted it to be, it was never going to be real. 

Trevelyan cleaned himself up and readied for bed. He heard the others still downstairs but he didn't know if he could look Dorian in the eye. 

Trevelyan lay on his back and closed his eyes, willing himself to fall asleep and to forget tonight. He only managed to lie in the dark, slowly growing more and more sober. He probably slept at some point, but he felt as if he never did.

***

The next night at camp he was ready to hit his bedroll the minute the sun went down. He was to share a tent with Dorian, but he had done that often enough and had managed not to embarrass himself. Now he was simply too tired to do anything but fall instantly asleep.

To his surprise, Dorian went into the tent first, claiming to be still hung over. Trevelyan made sure to give him plenty of time to get changed before coming in himself. Dorian was curled adorably in his bedroll and had stolen the top layer from Trevelyan's. The Inquisitor shook his head but otherwise said nothing.

He snuggled into his own sheets and closed his eyes. He could feel himself snoring even before he was fully asleep and was soon out for the count.

Yet he still managed to instantly wake when Dorian brushed against him, whimpering. Dorian tossed a little in his sleep, whispering something fearfully in Tevene. Trevelyan gently touched his shoulder and said his name, assuring him that he was safe.

Dorian held him, burying his head into his shoulder. Trevelyan was surprised but did not hesitate to stroke his back.

"It was just a dream," Trevelyan promised. "I'm here. You're okay."

Dorian nuzzled into him before fully waking. Once he did, he pushed Trevelyan away and quickly apologized. He moved his bedroll to the other side of the tent, and lay back down, facing away from him. 

Trevelyan frowned. "Dorian, if you want to talk-"

Dorian shook his head. "No. I'm sorry. I know you didn't sleep well last night. I didn't mean to bother you. It was just a dream. I'm a big boy, I can handle a scary dream."

His curtness hurt, but Trevelyan ignored it. "Okay. I'm here though."

Dorian shivered and Trevelyan wrapped his top sheet once again around him. Dorian's hand touched his and their eyes met.

"Thank you," Dorian said quietly.

Their lips were only a breath away and Trevelyan wanted so badly to bridge that distance. Both men watched the other for a moment before Dorian pulled away.

Trevelyan swallowed hard and rolled so his back was to his. He could feel his desire stirring but he tried to ignore it. As long as Dorian couldn't see it and the Inquisitor controlled his breathing no one would be the wiser.

Eventually he managed to relax enough to feel sleepy again, vaguely aware that Dorian was lying perfectly still and was clearly awake. He could hear the wind pick up but the sound was oddly comforting. He fell asleep again.

***

Trevelyan woke once again, though it was almost dawn now. Dorian was gone and his bedroll was so distraught that Trevelyan guessed he had been tossing and turning all night. 

The tent door flapped open and Dorian returned. He looked at Trevelyan with an expression that was almost unreadable. The only thing that was obvious was that he was exhausted.

Trevelyan insisted, "Come back to bed."

Dorian shook his head and muttered, "Too cold."

Trevelyan was skeptical, considering the state of his bedroll, but he lifted up his own blankets. "Come share with me then."

Dorian hesitated before doing so. He kept his distance, not looking at Trevelyan. The Inquisitor glanced over at Dorian's trembling frame and touched his shoulder tentatively. Dorian flinched and Trevelyan pulled away.

He said softly, "Dorian...you know you can tell me anything, right?"

Dorian murmured, "Just bad dreams."

He started shivering again and Trevelyan wrapped the blankets tighter around him. Dorian rolled onto his back and looked up at him.

And in that moment, Trevelyan felt so in love with him that it physically hurt. He wanted to stroke his face and murmur that all was right in the world, that nothing would hurt him. He had been tender with him before, before he had fallen in love, but now being that soft and delicate with him felt like it would reveal too much. In that moment, it felt like every ounce of his being betrayed his feelings, that any fool could see it and Dorian was polite enough to ignore it. 

Dorian said finally, "There are things I haven't told you. About why I left Tevinter. I don't want you to look at me any different and I know it will change things. But I need to talk to someone and I trust you. I trust you with my life."

Trevelyan’s heart skipped a beat as Dorian took a shaky breath, trying to compose himself. Finally the man looked into his eyes and said quietly, "My father attempted blood magic on me, to change who I was. It failed. I'm fine. But I still...I still dream about it. Especially the last week or so. I don't know why. I thought I was over it. But I'm afraid. And then I wanted to tell you so badly and when I couldn't it made it worse. You...I care about you. Your friendship has been the first good thing in my life for a very long time. I can't lose you."

Trevelyan tried to make sense of his words. "Dorian, your father hurt you. Why would I hate you for that? I...I care about you. I'm not going to let anyone harm you. If you're scared he's coming back, then I'll take care of it. But you're safe. You will always be safe with me."

Dorian's face softened. "You really mean that, don't you?"

Trevelyan promised, "I do. I would do anything for you." 

Dorian kissed him and a flush went through Trevelyan. Dorian went pale and he pulled away, immediately apologizing, but Trevelyan brought him into his arms and kissed him again.

"So I guess I don't have to say now that I prefer men," Dorian joked nervously.

He blushed slightly. "Guess I don't either."

Dorian smiled and brushed the hair from his face. Trevelyan beamed and kissed him tenderly again.

Dorian's expressed faded and he murmured, "This is everything my father wanted to take away from me. This...this feeling I have here with you. I don't want to be afraid of him or anyone else. I just want this. I just want you."

Trevelyan whispered, "So have me."

Dorian kissed him hungrily and rolled him on top of him. They grinded against each other as they hurried to discard their clothes. Trevelyan groaned as Dorian took off his shirt, revealing a small gold hoop pierced through his nipple. He kissed down his chest, giving the ring a little flick before working his way down to his small clothes. Dorian shimmed these off, giving Trevelyan a moment to strip off his bottoms. 

Naked and vulnerable, he kissed the top of Dorian's cock and brought it into his mouth. Dorian gasped, that same soft moan that he had made in the Tavern two nights before. Trevelyan sucked him, pining his hips down. Dorian grew hard and Trevelyan could almost feel him throbbing against his cheek as he took him in and out. Dorian arched his back, desperate to be deeper in him.

Trevelyan hooked Dorian's knee over his shoulder and brushed his hand lower until his fingers circled his rim. Dorian whispered a yes and Trevelyan traced it lightly, pushing just the tip of his thumb in. Dorian bucked underneath him and pleaded almost silently for him not to stop.

Trevelyan cast a quick grease spell on his hand and pushed his thumb in a little further. Dorian's breath quickened as he gained a rhythm. Dorian pushed himself down onto him, moving wherever his tongue or hand beckoned him to go. Trevelyan replaced his thumb with two fingers and he thrust harder into him. He could feel Dorian getting close, breathing so fast, his body practically vibrating underneath him, and Trevelyan withdrew, just enough so he could look up at Dorian's face. 

Dorian came undone and he drank him down, coaxing him through his climax. Trevelyan fisted his cock quickly, his own orgasm short but much needed.

Trevelyan flopped down beside him on the bedroll and Dorian pulled the covers around them, muttering about dealing with the mess later. They looked into each other's eyes and Dorian cupped his face, grinning at him. 

Trevelyan was not a man who ever expected to find love, but here it was. And it was better than he ever could have imagined.

**Author's Note:**

> I, like every fanfic writer on the planet, enjoys naming stories after songs. I kept thinking about "I Want You (She's So Heavy) but there are 14 words to that song that just repeat again and again. Not good for naming things. So this is actually a reference to John Lennon's confirmation that the song was about Yoko Ono:
> 
> "When you're drowning, you don't say, 'I would be incredibly pleased if someone would have the foresight to notice me drowning and come and help me.' You just scream."


End file.
